


Jailer Or Lover?

by luciferslegions



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Collars, Forced Bonding, Imprisonment, Inspired By Tumblr, Intersex Loki, Loki's Punishments, Loss of Powers, M/M, Masturbation in Bathroom, Minor Violence, Odin's A+ Parenting, One-Sided Attraction, Porn With Plot, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Room, Situational Humiliation, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferslegions/pseuds/luciferslegions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being put on trial, Loki is deemed too much of a danger to society to be left unchecked (surprise).  Odin decides to keep him under lock and key (literally), not only binding his magic, but binding him to another.  He leaves Thor to decide who will take on the task of being Loki's new "babysitter."  The obvious choice is his most trusted friend and brother-in-arms, but what Thor doesn't know is that the warrior has just as many secrets as his charge.</p>
<p>ON HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the tags say, this is inspired by a Tumblr post. It's a photoset of Hiddles and Zachary Levi in their Loki and Fandral costumes, and Zachary has his arm around Tom's shoulders and they're laughing and it's so frigging cute. Dis one hurr:
> 
> http://lokitty-kitty.tumblr.com/post/68040491800/frostironman-midgardladyfire-0-o-omg-this
> 
> Sadly, it's fake. But it's still adorbs right?

He was led through the golden hallways of Asgard by three guards, bound in shackles and chains that clinked loudly.

'At least I am not _gagged_ again,' Loki thought ruefully to himself.

So what if he had been lied to his entire life by the man he once called “Father”? The one truth he uttered was when he told Thor and Loki as children that they were both born to be kings. Despite the fact that Odin said his only birthright was to die, Loki convinced himself that he was merely telling another lie.

After being placed in a holding cell, the shackles chained and locked around his wrists and neck were removed, and immediately the door slammed shut, leaving him in total darkness. Unsurprisingly, the door and walls were warded to prohibit sorcerers from using their magic as a means of escape.

Knowing there was nothing else he could do from in there, Loki felt his way around for something to sit on. He stopped when his shin collided with the leg of what must have been the bed. After sitting down on the stiff and lumpy mattress, Loki folded his arms across his chest, crossed his right leg over his left, and waited.

~*~

Almost immediately after Loki left, Odin summoned Thor to the throne room. While making his way there, Thor wondered what was so important that his father couldn't wait. The people of Vanaheim were under attack, and Sif, the Warriors Three, as well as other Asgardian soldiers, were counting on him to assist them.

When he was several feet from the dais, Thor clenched his right hand into a fist and pressed it against his heart, a gesture of respect. A moment later, Thor's posture slackened when he saw how tired the older man looked.

“Father, what is wrong? Are you unwell?”

“It is nothing to worry yourself over.”

“It is the Odinsleep, isn't it?”

“This business with Loki has made me weary. But...it will all be over soon.”

“What do you mean?” Thor asked, taking on a tone of warning.

“Loki is one of the most dangerous criminals I have ever known, and it is too much of a risk to keep him alive. The only reason I have not banished him from Asgard or had him executed...is because Frigga will not let me.

“Be that as it may, we _cannot_ allow his actions here continue to go unchecked. Someone must be capable of keeping him under control, but it has to be someone who will not kill him. I leave the decision to you.”

“But why can I not do this? Since I have known him longer than anyone—”

“You have other priorities. Overseeing the safety of the Nine Realms and preparing to succeed the throne are more important than babysitting Loki. Now _go_.”

“Yes, Father,” Thor grumbled and turned on his heel before he could say something he might regret later.

Thor had several choice words he wanted to say to his father, but even if the man _wasn't_ on the verge of falling into the Odinsleep, he knew it would be a bad idea. On his way to the Bifrost, he pondered over what he had been told and who he should choose.

It would obviously be one of his friends, since he trusted them most of all. Volstagg already had a wife and children, and after the hair incident, Sif probably would kill Loki if she had the chance. Hogun might ask to stay on Vanaheim with his people and help with repairs and treating the wounded. Thor would have obliged regardless. That left only one choice.

~*~

Fandral could not remember any other time that he had fought this hard, defeating one enemy after another at such a fast pace. But these people were Hogun's family, people he has known his entire life, and he would not let his friend down. Thor arrived just in time to take down the giant, and the opposing army surrendered when they couldn't even rely on their secret weapon.

As Thor predicted, Hogun asked to remain on Vanaheim, and his request was granted. After speaking to Hogun, Thor went in search of Fandral. He found the man helping with gathering all of the prisoners into one group. When he noticed Thor's approach, he offered him a smile.

“It is a good thing you showed up when you did. I do not think anyone else would have been able to defeat that creature.”

“Could we go somewhere more private? I wish to discuss with you a most urgent matter,” Thor said in a hushed voice.

“Yes, of course.” He looked almost worried, curious as to what could possibly make Thor so on-edge. “What troubles you, my friend?” Fandral asked as soon as they were out of hearing range of the others.

“I am afraid I must ask something of you,” Thor answered, his discomfort written all over his face. “And rest assured, this was _not_ my idea.”

“You know that you can ask me anything.” He clapped a hand on Thor's shoulder. “I may not be able to wield a _magic hammer_ , but I am sure I can handle _this_.”

“Well, you see, my father—”

“Ah,” Fandral said with a nod.

“Yes.” Thor smiled sheepishly. “He is tired, and I fear it is only a matter of time before the Odinsleep claims him. I am much more mature than I used to be, and fully capable of ruling Asgard in his place. But I cannot monitor Loki at the same time.”

“What does Loki have to do with all of this?”

“He is the cause of my father's declining health, or so my father says. If he had his way, he would've had Loki banished from Asgard or executed. But Mother would not allow it.” Fandral's lips curled up into a smile. “I would not have supported his decision either.”

“So...what can I do?”

“You must do what I could not.”

“And what might _that_ be?” The mischievous grin disappeared when he saw the painful expression on Thor's face. It almost looked as if answering the question made him nauseous. “Thor, what is going on?”

“You have to...” Thor ran a hand over his face and tried to pull himself together. “You have to discipline him and teach him to know where his place is. But not by means of abuse.”

“What?! I can't do something like that!”

“Please Fandral, you have to! There is no one else!” Thor gripped the other man's shoulders, but not enough to inflict any pain. “You are the only person I can trust not to hurt him. Please, will you do this for me?”

Fandral averted his gaze, and for awhile said nothing. After a few tense moments of silence, he let out a sigh and nodded.

“Alright. I'll do it.”

~*~

Ever since Fandral returned from Vanaheim, he felt sick. A knot had formed in his stomach, and it seemed to be getting larger by each passing minute. Nothing at the victory feast looked appetizing to him, and he probably would have regurgitated anything he consumed. Even the concept of drinking himself into a coma was unappealing. 

When women approached him, he actually had to make an effort at pretending that he was interested in them. As he worked his magic on the two girls on either arm, one with blue eyes and dark hair like Sif's, and the other a blonde with green eyes, his thoughts were elsewhere. It wasn't the notion that he _had_ to do this to Loki...it was _what_ he had to do.

The sorcerers, personally chosen by Odin to serve Asgard, explained in more detail what his role was. From their description, his interpretation was that Loki was a dog and Fandral his master, only much more humiliating. This was _not_ what he signed up for. 

As much as he wanted to refuse, Fandral knew Thor was right. He was the only one who would not kill Loki or harm him in any way. Not intentionally.

While he met with the sorcerers, they explained to him how the binding spell worked and what its purpose was. In order for Loki to be bound to him, a personal possession was needed; it would then be melted down and made into the collar that would suppress Loki's magic and allow Fandral to control him.

Fandral was bitter, but he had to remind himself that there was no one else. He begrudgingly gave them one of his old swords; the blade had become too dull and could no longer be used.

After the weapon was melted down and reshaped, Runes were etched into it. Without any warning, one of the sorcerers grabbed Fandral's wrist and sliced open his palm. They held his hand over the collar, and his eyes widened as the blood, instead of dripping onto the floor, was absorbed into the markings.

His hand was wrapped, and he was sent on his way with one final piece of advice:

“Call him by name and he will obey.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this chapter on my birthday. You're welcome.

When they finally came for him hours later, Loki had fallen asleep leaning back against the wall of his cell. The guards replaced the chains around his wrists, but not the one around his neck, which made Loki curious. 

While he observed their route, he sighed begrudgingly when he realized that they were returning to the throne room. Odin was the last person, tied at a close second with Thor, that he wanted to see.

When he passed through the doors, Loki had expected a large crowd to be present for his punishment. Seeing how much Odin's true colors had revealed themselves, it was only natural that he would make this a public spectacle. Instead, the only people present were the All-Father, Queen Frigga, Thor, Lady Sif and the Warriors _Two_ , and a few guards posted throughout the room.

As soon as Loki was halted at the bottom of the dais, he sneered up at Odin. The old King looked even more tired since he last saw him. It gave him a little pride to know that he may have had a hand in that.

'Could that be the reason why there is hardly anyone present? Because the Odinsleep may come upon him at anytime, and he does not want to risk shaming himself in front of others? Pathetic old man.'

~*~

When Fandral was told about when the binding ceremony would take place, he specifically asked for no audience. He was already uncomfortable about this whole thing, so doing this in front of hundreds of people was something that he refused to do. What he kept to himself was that he was doing this for Loki's benefit. He kept this a secret even from Thor.

He tried to keep his breathing under control, as well as prevent himself from vomiting all over the floor of Odin's throne room. As much as he desperately wished that this was all just a bad dream, the collar clutched in his hands told him differently. It felt like ice through his leather gloves.

The sound of Loki's voice made him look up from his shoes.

“What's this, All-Father? No grand exhibition of my sentence? Perhaps you've lost your touch.”

When Odin's eye shifted in Fandral's direction and met his own, his heart stopped. The All-Father returned his focus to the prisoner and straightened on his throne minutely.

“Restrain him.”

The two guards put their hands on Loki's arms and shoulders and pushed him so he was kneeling. The trickster snarled and tried to shake them off, but they only gripped him tighter. Frigga cupped her hands over her face and began to weep. 

Loki's gaze snapped up when someone was standing above him. It was one of Thor's stupid friends. The womanizer. Loki never bothered to learn their names, because they cared just as little about him. Sif was the exception because she wasn't _always_ Thor's groupie. What Loki found somewhat strange was that this man's expression was almost regretful.

“Forgive me.” 

Loki was about to ask what he meant by that, when the man was leaning towards him and he felt something wrap around the back of his neck. His eyebrows knit together when he heard the click, and then the object suddenly constricted and nearly choked him as it shrunk to fit the size of his throat.

“What the _Hel_ is this?!” Loki yelled as he reached up and clawed at the collar. He turned his piercing gaze to Odin. “So _this_ is your plan? Put the _monster_ on a _leash_ and force it to _behave?!_ ”

Odin did not answer him. Instead, he looked over at Fandral again. The other man wilted and ran a hand over his face.

“Loki, be silent.” It was so quiet that hardly anybody heard what he said. But Loki did.

'What did you say to me?! How dare you—?!' Instead of any actual sound, there were only choking noises.

Fandral looked down at the floor again and clenched his hands into fists at his sides. As much as he tried to make this less humiliating for Loki, it was not enough. He took a couple steps back when Loki suddenly lunged at him. He was saying something, but because of the collar, he was mute until Fandral lifted the spell.

'I'll kill you! I'll tear the flesh from your bones and choke you with it!'

The guards tried to hold him down, but he was fueled by rage. Even with the handcuffs, he was able to maneuver his arms out of their grasp. Fandral set his jaw and released a sigh.

“Loki, stop.”

Before he could comprehend what happened, Loki had crumpled to the floor. The spell had caused his muscles to lock and he dropped like a rag doll. Because of the slight throbbing, he had a feeling that there was a bruise forming on his right cheek where he landed on his face.

There was a commotion above where Frigga had collapsed on the stairs. Thor had quickly gone to her side and brought her up to a sitting position.

“Take him to his new living quarters,” Odin spoke.

Fandral was so startled at hearing the man's voice that it took him a moment to register what he had actually said. He looked over to where Thor was helping his mother, but instead of returning his gaze, Thor kept his attention on Frigga. But Fandral knew he was purposely ignoring him, and for good reason.

That was yet _another_ thing they had failed to tell him. Loki was going to be his new roommate.

~*~

The entire time Loki was dragged through the halls, he kept his gaze on the floor. His throat was still clogged with some sort of magical phlegm and he couldn't move his limbs. He had no idea where he was being taken, and when the guards opened a door and left him in a bedroom that was not his own, a shudder ran through his numb frame. At least they were _generous_ enough to remove the handcuffs.

Because of the layout of the room and simplicity of the decorations, Loki knew he was in a section of the palace that housed warriors and lower-class nobles. And judging by how that friend of Thor's was behaving towards him, there was no doubt that this room belonged to him.

The knob turned with a click and there was an obnoxious creak when the door opened, admitting the golden-haired warrior. Loki narrowed his eyes at him, as best as he could from his spot on the floor. Judging by the man's shocked expression, he was not expecting to see him there.

“I am sorry, they took you away before I got a chance to free you,” Fandral stammered as he shut the door behind him. “Loki, I release you from your restraints.”

Loki's eyes lowered when he felt his muscles loosen, so he rolled his shoulders. He pushed himself up from the floor and rubbed at his wrists. For a few moments he merely stood there and flexed his fingers and looked at his wrists, where there were bruises from the handcuffs.

“'Free me,' you say,” Loki said cooly. Fandral gulped, and then he yelped when he landed on his back with Loki on top of him, fingers wrapped around his throat. “You call this _'free'?!_ ”

“I'm sorry,” Fandral gasped out. His face was beginning to turn red and gagging noises were falling from his lips.

“Well? Aren't you going to give me a command? I'm your _bitch_ , aren't I?” But Fandral merely shook his head as best he could from within Loki's grasp. Loki clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on Fandral's throat. “Don't _hold back_ , now! I have to do whatever you ask! _Come on!_ Make the monster _dance!_ ”

When Fandral was close to blacking out, Loki got up and glared at him. The man on the floor lifted a shaky hand to his throat and coughed dryly. Loki crossed his arms petulantly and turned away from him while Fandral slowly sat up and leaned all his weight against the bed.

“Please. Just allow me to explain,” Fandral said as he eased himself up onto the mattress. Loki's scowl increased in intensity. “Thor asked me to do this, because...he knew I would not harm you.”

“Oh? And what do you call _this?_ ” Loki asked, pointing at the bruise on his cheek.

“That was unintentional. I am sorry. But I swear, I hate this just as much as you do.” Loki scoffed. “You think I _want_ to order you around? Under normal circumstances, I would be thrown in prison for trying to do something like this!”

“Well, why _wouldn't_ you want to? You are Thor's friend, after all.”

Fandral pinched the bridge of his nose and slumped his shoulders in defeat. Loki looked around the room, jaw tight and brow furrowed in anger.

“It is getting late, and I am too tired right now. You may use the bath if you want.”

Loki watched the man cautiously as he walked about the room and opened various cabinets, pulling out blankets and a pillow. He narrowed his eyes in scrutiny when Fandral began laying out the blankets on the other side of the room and sat down. He was _really_ confused when he started taking off his boots.

“What are you doing?”

Fandral stopped and looked over his shoulder at Loki, who still had yet to move from his spot. He raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“I am getting ready for bed. Do I need to change in the washroom? It's only my boots, though.”

“No. I mean, why are you sleeping over there?”

“So you can sleep in the bed, of course.” Loki's eyes darted towards the bed and then back to him. Fandral started working on his boots again and shrugged his shoulders. He was thankful this was not one of those formal-armor-wearing occasions. “Look, I know it is not as elegant as you are used to—”

“I am the one who should be on the floor, you idiot! I'm...I am a prisoner and a freak and—”

“A prince. Princes do not sleep on the floor if they do not have to.” Loki bit his cheek to try and get his breathing under control. “Do you need anything else?”

“You're not going to _restrain_ me? What if I try to strangle you again?”

“I will worry about it _then_.” After he set his boots aside, Fandral blew out the nearby candle on the table. “Goodnight, Prince Loki.”

Minutes passed by, and Loki was still standing in the same spot. When he began losing the feeling in his feet, he relented and sat on the edge of the bed, but he didn't make any move to get comfortable. Despite how nice the man seemed to be, Loki still didn't trust him. It had to be some kind of act, and he refused to fall for it. This was probably the same tactic he used to get women into bed with him.

Loki's lip curled in disgust and he had to keep down the bile in his throat. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared forward at the wall with a frown. He would not make friends with him. He would rather _die_ first.

Within an hour, Loki was on his side, arms still crossed, deep in slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

When Loki opened his eyes, the first thing he registered was pain. As he tried to move, he realized that his entire body was sore. He groaned in frustration. Despite what he told himself, he still fell asleep.

He had slept the entire night on his side with his arms crossed, and now he seemed to be stuck that way. While he loosened his muscles and tried not to cringe whenever he heard a popping noise, Loki glanced around for the owner of this room. He was no longer in the corner, and the blankets and pillow had been put away.

Loki narrowed his eyes at the thought of the man being awake and walking around and...minding his own business...while Loki was still sleeping. For all he knew, he could have been _watching_ him! Loki grimaced and tried to dismiss the idea.

Loki noticed something on the bedside table and picked it up. It was a note, obviously for him, since it hadn't been there the night before. After he finished reading it, his face contorted in fury and he crumpled the paper before tossing it on the floor.

_I left this note because I did not want to wake you. Feel free to use the washroom and anything else at your leisure. Since I do not know what kind of food you like, I thought it a bad idea to have breakfast brought to you, only for it to be things you dislike._  
 _Because of the wards that have been placed on my door, as well as the collar, you are unable to leave, but there is a servant in the hallway who will bring your meals when you want them._  
 _You will not see me again until tonight._

Loki grit his teeth, and just to test it out, he tried to open the door. As he reached for the doorknob, he received a shock that ran up his arms. He could swear that his hair was standing on end. 

He stepped away from the door and paced the length of the room. This went on for several minutes, and he didn't even know _why_ he was pacing. Maybe just to give him something to do. He stopped when his stomach growled. Loki couldn't remember the last time he had eaten an actual meal, or slept for that matter. Probably before he found out the truth.

Loki walked back over to the door with a scowl and crossed his arms.

“Is anyone out there?” He snapped. 

Highly unlikely. Thor's friends always enjoyed yanking his chain. Okay, probably not the best analogy.

“Y-yes, Your Highness.” It sounded like a child. 

“I would like to have breakfast now.”

“What w-would you l-like, Your Highness?” 

'Why does he keep calling me that? Does he not know what I am? Maybe that idiot told him to do it.'

“One slice of bread, apricot jam, citrus fruits, and wine. If you bring mead I swear I will fillet you where you stand.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I mean no, Your Highness. I mean—”

“Oh for the love of...just _go!_ ”

It seemed to have become a nervous habit within the past couple of minutes, but as soon as the servant left, Loki resumed his pacing. Again, he didn't notice he was doing it in the beginning. It was only when his feet became sore that he managed to reel himself in. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began to wring his hands. He just couldn't seem to sit still.

After about twenty minutes, because it took some time for the servant to make his way to the dining hall and back, Loki finally had his breakfast. But, much to his chagrin, the boy wasn't using many of his brain cells.

“I am back with your breakfast, Your Highness.”

“Well, what are you standing _out there_ for? I am unable to open the door,” Loki snapped.

“Y-yes, sorry. My mistake.”

Loki remained where he was when the boy entered the room, and his eyes followed him. Because of the clattering, it was apparent that he was shaking. He set the tray on the table by the wall, then jerkily turned towards Loki and bowed.

“Can I—may I get you anything else, Your Highness?”

“Yes. Go to my room and bring me a few outfits from my closet. They can't expect me to waste away in here wearing the same clothes. Disgusting pigs.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Right away.”

As the servant left the room, Loki scoffed when the door opened easily for him. He then got up from the bed and approached the table. His eyes raked over the food items, and then he picked up the goblet. He sniffed it and “hmm”ed when he confirmed that it was wine. After tasting the jam, which turned out to be apricot like he asked, he nodded and sat down. So he would not have to fillet the boy after all.

Loki was nearly finished with his breakfast by the time the servant returned. There wasn't necessarily any time limit, since Loki had no plans of changing until after he had eaten. And that meant that, hopefully, the servant had put some thought into his choices. But that was probably a lost cause.

“Just set them there,” Loki said and gestured to the bed.

“Yes, Your Highness.” After carefully placing the pile on the bed, he bowed to him like before. “Is there anything else y-you need?”

“No. You may go,” Loki replied with a wave of his hand.

“Yes, Y-your Highness.”

Loki had to clench his hand into a fist to prevent himself from slapping the stutter out of the boy's mouth.

~*~

When Fandral entered the dining hall for breakfast, several sets of eyes turned in his direction, then immediately darted away. The normal volume from before lowered to murmured whispers.

Fandral let out a sigh and slumped his shoulders. Even though the situation with Loki was supposed to remain a secret, it was inevitable that it wouldn't remain secret for long. Volstagg was like an open book whenever he was drunk. He probably shouldn't have gone to bed early last night.

Even after he sat down at the table with Volstagg and Sif, Fandral made no move to fill his plate. Thor was nowhere in sight, but Fandral really wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. He would probably end up punching him in the face if he saw him.

“So, how are you this morning?” Sif asked.

“I have been better,” Fandral grumbled.

“Well, you are alive at least,” Volstagg said before taking a bite out of a turkey leg.

“Barely.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Sif remarked.

“Loki tried to suffocate me last night. But I don't really blame him. I would probably suffocate me, too.”

“You have to tell the All-Father about this.” Fandral shook his head. “Fandral! He could _kill_ you! Does this not bother you?”

“He is angry, among other things. I think the best way to approach this is to not approach it.”

“What are you saying?”

“He sees me as his jailer. I do not want Loki to think of me that way, but if I avoid him and show him that I am not trying to confine him, maybe he won't be wound so tight.”

“But he _is_ confined.”

“Humor me, Sif. Just this once.” 

Fandral rubbed at the back of his neck and winced. Sif saw this, and she noticed the faint bruises peaking through the collar of his tunic.

“You did not order him to release you.” Fandral's silence was enough of an answer. “You now have the power to bring the most dangerous man in the Nine Realms to his knees. Why do you not use it?”

“Because I want him to trust me.” 

“You want the _God_ of _Lies_ to trust you.” The glare he gave her made Sif go back on the rest of her retort. 

“I know you hold a grudge against him, possibly several, but I don't. And yes, Loki has done awful things to many people, but he does not deserve this. I will not be a pawn in Odin's game.”

Sif's eyes widened at the last part of his statement. Fandral wasn't even sure where that had come from, himself. Never in a million years would he have imagined speaking about the All-Father in such a manner. But if he was honest with himself, it actually felt kind of good. Fandral pushed away from the table without another word. As he was leaving the hall, he ignored the stares that followed him. 

When he was near the end of the room, he snatched an apple from one of the fruit bowls, then slipped out the door. He looked down at the apple in his hand and observed it carefully. It was bright red, a lighter shade than most red apples. One would think it was unripe, but only the freshest fruits are picked. Only the best for Asgard's finest. But these were not the thoughts that filled Fandral's mind.

'I wonder if his eyes look like this.'


	4. Chapter 4

After finishing his breakfast, which consisted of a red apple and nothing else, Fandral headed down to the training grounds with the hope of some time to himself. Time to clear his head from recent events by slashing at things. 

Unfortunately for him, when he reached the training grounds, Fandral found the place to already be occupied. Neither Fandral nor Thor made any move at speaking to each other. They didn't make eye contact. Fandral was not sure if Thor was angry with him, and if he was he had no idea why he would be. Maybe he just couldn't face him. Fandral had to keep the smirk off his face.

'Serves you right.'

But there was something on his mind that needed to be cleared up.

“How is your mother?”

“She is resting. She fainted...last night...and did not regain consciousness until early this morning.”

“I wish her well.”

“I will tell her you said that.”

Without another word, Thor put down the sword he had been using and left the room. Fandral had not meant for him to go tell her right this moment. 

'He probably just wants to put space between us. And I completely agree with him.'

Fandral found that he much preferred this more observant version of Thor. At least he won't have to tell him to get lost; Thor could figure _that_ part out on his own. Fandral let out a sigh and replaced the sword on the rack.

“What am I doing? I know it was not his fault. If there is anyone to blame, it's Odin.” That strange adrenaline thrummed throughout his body again, and Fandral shook it off. “I am going to get myself thrown in prison if I keep talking like that.”

~*~

After finishing his breakfast, Loki yelled at the servant to take his dishes away. He glared at the boy as he stumbled out the door. When the door clicked shut, Loki let out a sigh. Since he had nothing to keep him entertained, and the idiot would be gone until the evening, Loki had to find something to do.

“I suppose I should find somewhere to put my clothes.” While he pondered that, his gaze turned towards Fandral's closet. “He probably does not need _all_ of that closet space...”

Loki sorted through his clothes, and after it had all been divided into shirts, pants, tunics, etc., he walked over to the closet. He grabbed a hanger and looked at the shirt. His lips curled up at how wrinkled it was. He then pulled the garment off the hanger and tossed it to the floor.

He continued to do this until there was a pile of cloth next to his feet. Only two pairs of pants and one shirt remained in the closet. All of the hangers were bunched together on his arm.

"That ought to be plenty."

Loki set the hangers on the bed, then neatly slid each clothing item onto them. With the utmost care, as opposed to “The Idiot” which he has now been officially dubbed, Loki hung the garments up in the closet and made sure they were completely straight. He didn't want to risk getting any wrinkles after all of that _strenuous_ work.

After looking over it for a few more seconds, Loki crossed his arms and nodded in approval. He then gazed around the room, taking in the personal belongings of the room's owner. Loki rolled his eyes when he saw the absence of literature. While the other man did not seem to be as dimwitted and warmongering as Thor or a majority of Asgard's finest, Loki had expected better of him. It seemed that there was to be no hope for him after all.

Loki pondered over what he should do next. He almost wished that servant boy was here so he could insult him. He realized he was over thinking because he began pacing again. Loki sat down at the table with a huff and tapped nervously with his long fingers. When the noise became irritating, he crossed his arms tightly and tapped his foot.

He quickly got up with a growl and rubbed his temples.

“I'll go insane in here.” 

Loki remained frozen in place, but his mind was going a mile a minute. He slowly looked up from the floor and turned his gaze towards the door.

'Hmm, it is still a bit early. But just maybe...'

He approached the door and leaned slightly towards it. After waiting a few more seconds, he straightened his posture.

“Boy, are you out there?”

“Yes, Your Highness...” Came the meek reply. Loki allowed a smirk to grace his features, but he quickly reeled himself in. “C-can I get you anything, Your Highness?”

“Yes. Go to my chambers and bring some of my books.”

“Do you have any in particular that you would like?”

“Just _go_.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

There must have been some sort of sound dampener on the door, because Loki could not hear the servant's fading footsteps. Loki let out a sigh and returned to the chair. He managed to keep both feet firmly planted and his hands still. While waiting for his books, he would have time to work on his nervous fidgeting. 

“There must be something in this room. I have _never_ been so out of sorts.”

Without even realizing it, Loki began to count how long the servant boy had been gone. When he thought he heard a faint noise on the other side of the door, he was up to twenty-two minutes and four seconds. He remained seated as the boy entered the room.

“Set them down here.” He inclined his head towards the table. When the books were placed on the table, Loki picked up each one and looked them over. “Interesting choices. Not necessarily what I would have picked.”

“That was all I could find, Your Highness.”

“What?!” Loki snapped.

“Those were the only books on the shelves in your room.” 

While Loki tried to get his breathing under control, the servant wrung his hands nervously.

“You may go.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Loki released a sigh and gently ran his fingertips across the cover of the book on top of the stack. There were only four.

“ _Of course_ Odin would have my tomes confiscated. He would not want me to _enjoy_ myself or anything,” Loki said sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “But at least he didn't take all of them away.”

Loki tilted his head slightly when he noticed something poking out between the pages of the third book from the bottom of the stack. He opened it and found a folded sheet of paper, and when he read it, a lump formed in his throat.

_I was unable to hide any of your spell books without causing suspicion, but I hope these will suffice. Always know that I love you and I will always be here when you need me._

_Mother_

~*~

Fandral saw that Thor was not in the dining hall again when he came down for lunch. He reasoned that he was still attending to the Queen and hoped that she was doing alright. When he sat down at his usual table, Sif and Volstagg were unusually silent.

“Hogun is still on his home world?” He asked, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.

“I suppose. We have had no contact with him,” Sif replied, but there was a slight tremor in her voice.

“You do not have to walk on eggshells around me, you know.”

“Right, sorry. I just...”

“I understand, Sif.”

“Understand what?”

“How you feel.”

“I still do not follow.”

“It is the reason why Thor asked me to do this. Hogun is with his people, Volstagg has a family of his own, and you hate Loki enough to kill him.”

“I do not—”

“Yes you do, Sif. You want his head on a pike.”

Sif pursed her lips and averted her gaze, but she made no move to argue with his claim any further. Volstagg was still quietly watching the two talking, which was uncharacteristic of him. Usually, by this time, he would have already eaten at least three servings.

“Have you spoken to Thor since yesterday?” Fandral asked. It appeared as if he would be the one taking charge of their seemingly one-sided conversation. 

“Yes, this morning. Well, we caught sight of him. He was leaving the training grounds and I think he may have been headed to his mother's chambers.”

“That must have been after I saw him.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“I only asked him how Queen Frigga was doing, and he told me that she was resting after she fainted last night.”

For awhile, neither of the warriors spoke. They were obviously worried about the Queen, and they had no way of knowing whether all was well. There was no chance in Hel they could ask the All-Father, and they had no idea when they would see Thor again.

~*~

With no word all day from their friend, Fandral, Volstagg and Sif went their separate ways that evening after the servants began to clear the tables of dinner plates and cutlery. When Fandral reached his room, he spotted the young servant boy standing in the corridor biting his fingernails.

“What is the matter? Has Loki chastised you so severely that you are afraid to confront him?”

“No, sir. He has not spoken to me since this morning.”

“What do you mean?”

“I gave him his breakfast and some clothes earlier, and then a bit later he wanted me to bring him some books. And ever since then he has been quiet.”

“Alright. Your services for today are no longer needed. You may go.”

“Yes, sir.”

After the boy was gone, Fandral quietly turned the knob and opened the door. When he entered the room, the first thing he noticed was the large pile of clothing on the floor. For a moment he simply looked between the clothes on the floor and the foreign garments in his closet, and then he turned his gaze towards the figure seated at the table. Loki was slightly hunched over, and he was staring at a piece of paper that was flat against the table.

“I see you've had a busy day,” Fandral said as he gathered up his clothes from the floor.

“Hmm.”

“At least you won't be bored now.”

“Hmm.”

“Would you like to use the washroom first, or have you already taken care of that?”

“Hmm.”

Fandral turned around to look at the other man to see that he was still staring at the sheet of paper. Even though it was none of his business, he was curious as to what was written on it, because it had Loki so captivated. But he also looked sad.

Knowing he would get nowhere by just watching him or waiting for an answer, Fandral decided to risk suffering the wrath of an angry Loki later.

“I am going to use the washroom if you're not going to.”

“Hmm.”

When Fandral finished with his bath, he saw that Loki had fallen asleep at the table. Before setting up his sleeping area in the corner, Fandral grabbed one of his blankets and placed it over the other male. Even though he told himself not to, his curiosity got the better of him. 

After reading the note, he had to hold back a sigh for fear of breathing too hard. Just as Fandral was about to back away, he noticed wet spots on the paper. They were fresh.


	5. Chapter 5

Just like the previous day, Loki woke up to find himself alone.

As he sat up, the blanket that Fandral wrapped around his shoulders slid onto the floor. This startled him, because he hadn't even been aware of this taking place. What else had the man been doing while Loki was asleep?

Loki groaned when his neck popped and the muscles in his back started to ache. And he had slept with his arms crossed again, so those were sore as well.

“I need to rethink my sleeping strategy,” Loki grumbled. He got up from the chair and slowly hobbled over to the door. “Boy, are you out there?”

“Y-yes, Your Highness,” the servant answered.

“Do you remember what I asked for yesterday?”

“One slice of bread with apricot jam, citrus fruits, and wine?”

“Are you _sure?_ ” Loki drawled.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the boy squeaked.

“Good. Now go get it.”

Once he was sure the servant boy was at least around the corner, because the spells on the door blocked out most noises, Loki moved away from the wall and walked over to the closet. He took his time choosing the day's outfit. Despite the fact that no one (important) was coming to see him, he still had the right to look nice.

“I should probably bathe today too, while I still have the room to myself,” Loki mused as he placed his choices on the bed and began to undress. “After breakfast.”

~*~

Thor had come down to the dining hall for breakfast, and his friends were more than glad to see him. He looked weary, but it was understandable, because he had been dutifully taking care of his mother. The topic of Loki was not brought up, but instead they had light conversation about each other, inquiring about the Queen's health, and discussing the situation with Vanaheim.

By the end of the meal, Thor was in much lighter spirits than he had been feeling the past couple of days. He was more than thankful for his friends' support, because he knew that without it he would be helpless.

On their way out of the hall, Fandral walked a bit quicker so he could be in equal stride with Thor. When the other man noticed this, Fandral inclined his head as a gesture that he wanted to speak to him privately. After bidding Volstagg and Sif farewell, and promising to see them later in the day at the training grounds, Thor turned his gaze back to Fandral.

“What is this sense of urgency? Does it involve Loki?” Fandral wrung his hands and seemed hesitant to answer. “Has he done something to you?”

“No! I mean...no.”

“How have things been going? Are you two getting along?” Thor felt like an idiot for asking that question. Loki didn't get along with anybody, especially people who were friends of Thor.

“I only see him at night. I know he does not want to see me, and I want him to trust me. So I have decided that the only way to make him feel that I am not breathing down his neck and he is not...a prisoner...is to not be around.” Thor looked somewhat surprised. “He is suspicious of me, I know. I mean, he strangled me the first night. But I am alright,” Fandral said the last part in a rush. 

“You wish to give him freedom, despite the fact that he is forbidden from leaving your room.”

“I am trying to.” Fandral ran a hand over his face tiredly. “I know this is too much to ask, and the answer is probably no anyway...”

“What is it?”

“When she is well enough, would your mother be able to visit him? I mean, would the All-Father allow her to?” Thor chuckled.

“Even if he did not allow it, she would still do it. My mother is the only person in the Nine Realms who can defy the All-Father and get away with it.”

“It's just...I want to make him feel as comfortable as I can. And I think a visit from her would make him happy.”

“It would make her happy as well. I will speak to her about it when she has rested a bit more.” Thor placed a hand on Fandral's shoulder, and the other man looked at him with an expression of confusion. “Thank you, Fandral.”

“For what?”

“For your treatment of my brother. You have done a better job than _I_ ever could have.”

“I doubt that,” Fandral said with a shrug.

“I would have smothered him, in turn making him feel like he _really was_ a prisoner. Even though I still see him as my brother, despite his true origins, he has made it quite clear that he does not return the sentiment.”

When Thor said the last word, there was a tone of hurt and his expression turned solemn. Fandral wasn't sure what it meant, because Thor never told anyone about how Loki stabbed him on the top of Stark Tower. It seemed that the word “sentiment” had a new meaning to Thor ever since.

“He still calls you 'Brother,' does he not? And I find it hard to believe that it is simply a slip of the tongue.” Thor merely nodded. “Shall we go meet the others at the training grounds?”

“Yes.”

~*~

When Loki exited the washroom, he stretched his arms over his head and breathed deeply.

“I definitely needed that. Not to mention this room no longer smells like The Idiot's sweat.” He sat down at the table and picked up one of the books. “And now for a bit of light reading.”

Just as he opened to the first page, the parchment with Frigga's note slipped out and floated down to the floor. Setting the book on the table, he leaned down and picked it up, but he placed it face-down on the table so he wouldn't read it.

“It means _nothing_. She is a _liar,_ just like _all_ of the others.” He then breathed out a sigh. “Then what does that make me?”

For another moment, he merely sat there and pondered, multiple thoughts entering his mind. He picked up the note again and simply stared at it, not reading the message. His eyes then shifted towards the candle placed in the middle of the table. Even though it was nearly after noon and the sun was enough of a light source to assist him in his reading, Loki always had one candle lit in his room, and it would be no different here.

Loki held the parchment up to the flame, and his facial expression remained blank as the corner began to shrivel from the deadly heat of the burning wick. When the slowly inching flame became a little too close, Loki blew sharply and extinguished it. Separating his thumb and forefinger, the scrap of paper floated down to the floor, and a few tiny ashes were sent into the air.

Now that he no longer had a distraction, Loki could settle into his book. As he held the pages pinched between his fingers, listening to the slight crackling when he would turn them, a sense of calm fell over him. This was something he had not done in a long time. _Too_ long. He did not think he would ever be able to hold a book again, not knowing what fate the All-Father had planned for him.

While his situation was less than favorable, Loki knew that it could be worse. _Much_ worse. 

He could have been locked in the dungeons along with common criminals, deep below the grand corridors of the palace, forgotten and abandoned. They could have kept the handcuffs on, and that ridiculous mouthpiece. It took hours for the indentations to fade away. Odin could have publicly humiliated him when his magic and freedom were taken from him.

Odin could have...but he didn't. 

“But _why?_ ” Loki didn't realize he had spoken out loud and nearly jumped in his seat.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, trying to wrap his mind around the reason for Odin's strange behavior. As he tried to remember all that took place that night, he vaguely recalled someone else who had been acting rather peculiar.

“The Idiot?” Loki's face scrunched up, both in puzzlement and slight disgust at the thought of any friend of Thor's expressing the faintest hint of compassion for him. He shook his head, refusing to acknowledge such a notion.

“Odin was tired. That's all.”

~*~

When Thor and Fandral arrived at the training grounds, they saw that Volstagg was in the middle of choosing his sword. Sif had already found herself a fight. She was never very good at being patient when it came to sparring rounds.

“Well Volstagg, what do you say we have a go?” Fandral asked. The man nodded. “I'm sure Sif is saving you for herself,” he added with a quick look at Thor.

“She always does,” Thor replied with a non-committal shrug. “I wish the both of you luck and a good fight.”

It turns out that Thor had to wait a bit longer than he was expecting. At the same time, Sif had not expected Tyr to be as strong an opponent as he was. Although he was one of Odin's strongest and highest-ranking warriors, he was also getting on in years; but that also meant he had experience. 

By the time their fight was over, it ended in a draw. Tyr could tell that Sif was beginning to tire, and even though she refused to let him finish the fight early, he vowed to meet her in battle again—when she was using her mental strength in equal amount to her physical strength. As much as he tried to make it sound sincere and not like an insult, Sif still noticed. 

“Don't you _dare_ say anything,” she hissed and jabbed a finger at Fandral's chest.

“I said nothing.”


	6. Chapter 6

A week dragged by, and Loki had been on the verge of ripping his hair out on more than one occasion. He read all four of his books...three times. If he hadn't been such a literature enthusiast, he would have built a bonfire out of them in hopes that somebody would let him out of the room before he died from smoke inhalation. Or burning to death. Or just sheer boredom.

He still only saw mere glimpses of The Idiot. In the morning or at night, if he wasn't asleep. He did try to be awake at those times, because the notion of the man watching him sleep still creeped him out, but sometimes sleeping was the only thing Loki could do to pass the time. They never spoke to each other, which Loki didn't mind in the slightest, but he had a feeling he was being spoken about due to the number of times he sneezed throughout the day. Even if he wasn't involved, which he probably was anyway, Loki blamed The Idiot. Everything was his fault.

The servant boy still stuttered—Loki would find a way to blame The Idiot for that—, and he still referred to Loki as “Your Highness,”— _that_ he knew without a doubt was The Idiot's fault. Even though it had been nearly two weeks since Loki was put under house arrest—indirectly The Idiot's fault—, he still hadn't bothered to find out the lad's name. “Boy” suited him just fine, and the youth didn't appear to be offended by it. On several occasions Loki almost called him “idiot,” but he caught himself at the last second. That name was reserved for his jailer.

Loki was sitting at the table and scratching Runes into the wood with one of The Idiot's knives when he heard a rap at the door. His jaw tightened and he jabbed the knife into the table so the handle was pointed at the ceiling.

“Odin's ravens...” He rolled his eyes. “For the _last_ time, you don't need to _bloody_ knock! I can't open the door! Imbecile.”

When the knob turned and the door was pushed open, it wasn't the servant boy who entered.

“Is that any way to speak to your mother?” Frigga chided.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“Well, from what Thor told me, I was under the impression that you wanted me here,” Frigga said as she shut the door and walked further into the room.

“And where did he get _that_ idea?”

“Fandral.”

“The Idiot?”

“I suppose.” Frigga tsked and shook her head when she saw what Loki had done to the table.

“He doesn't mind.”

“Are you sure? Did you ask him for permission to graffiti his furniture?” Frigga asked before she waved a hand over the table and the Runes vanished.

“We don't talk,” Loki replied, trying not to pout when Frigga pulled the knife out, placed it back in its sheath, then stuck it in her belt loop. “That's stealing, you know.”

“Did you receive my note?”

“Yes. It looked very pretty when I set it on fire.” 

“Loki. And I went to all that trouble to hide those books, too.” Frigga looked at him with disappointment, but her tone was somewhat playful.

“You expect too much of me.”

“Well? Aren't you going to invite me to sit down? Or do you expect me to stand here until—”

“Until _what?_ You fall over again? You know, I find it very hard to believe that it took you a _week_ to recover just from falling on the steps. I know you're getting on in years, but you are not decrepit yet. The night Laufey tried to kill Odin, you fought two Frost Giants. After one knocked you down, it only took you a few minutes to get back up. _Two years_ can't have aged you that much. And don't use the excuse that Odin wouldn't let you come visit me, because you never listen to him anyway.”

“I had no intentions of using Odin as an excuse.”

“Then what _is_ your excuse?”

“I was unsure of what to say to you. I came to realize that I should have handled the first meeting in the throne room differently. I'm not saying Odin was blameless, and I had a chance to speak up for you. But I stayed silent.”

“I wouldn't have wanted your help anyway. The damage has already been done, and it can't be reversed.” Frigga released a quiet sigh.

“If only things could have turned out differently.”

“I thought 'different' was what you were trying to avoid. At least, that was what you told me at Odin's bedside.” 

Frigga bowed her head and folded her hands. She pulled Fandral's knife from her belt and placed it on the table, then turned and walked silently towards the door. Just as she placed her hand on the doorknob, Loki's voice stopped her.

“Tell the boy to bring my dinner.”

~*~

Thor never showed up for dinner, which made Fandral and the others worried. Had something happened to the Queen again? Fandral had suggested to Thor to ask her to visit Loki when she was feeling better. Could she have done that and it didn't go well? Was he to blame for all of this? 

Fandral released a sigh, which cut through the silence at the table and made his two friends turn their heads towards him.

“I think I will return to my room. I could not eat another bite,” he said as he rose from the bench. “Good night to you both.” All he received was a pair of weak nods.

When Fandral was walking down the corridor towards his room, he saw the servant boy still standing outside the door. He was leaning against the wall asleep.

“Have you brought him his dinner?” The boy jerked awake and Fandral had to hold back a chuckle.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Alright. You may go.”

“Yes, sir.” As soon as he was gone, Fandral opened the door and entered his room, shaking his head.

Loki was sitting in one of the chairs at the table with his legs and arms crossed, scowling in front of him. Fandral noticed one of his knives stuck in the table and some sort of symbols carved into the wood.

'Oh well. He uses it more than I do.'

Fandral went around Loki and began pulling the blankets and pillows out of the cupboard to make up his bed, and he glanced up to see that the man hadn't moved. 

“I spoke to Thor about it. Did your mother come to see you?” Loki didn't answer verbally, but Fandral let out a grunt when a hand gripped the back of his shirt and threw him down on the table.

“I am already forced to live with you against my will. Don't meddle in my own affairs!” Loki snarled as he pressed his hand into Fandral's throat.

“I'm sorry. I only thought—”

“Don't think. It doesn't suit you.”

Loki released him and Fandral slid to the floor. He watched as the other man headed towards the door as if he was making to storm out of the room. Just as his hand reached for the door knob, he froze, remembering that he couldn't leave. His hands clenched into fists and he began to shake. Fandral watched him silently as he started to breathe heavily, and then he suddenly turned around and grabbed some objects from the table and threw them at the door. They were blackened and crumbled a little bit when they hit the door, as well as the floor. When Fandral was able to get a better look at them, his heart skipped a beat.

Loki had burned his books. 

For a moment, Loki simply stood there and stared at the door. Fandral got up from the floor and looked at him apprehensively when he started to raise both of his hands.

“Loki, what are you thinking?” He asked with suspicion.

“I'm thinking that if I injure myself enough, then I will be taken to the Healing Rooms, and I would have an opportunity to plan an escape. Or, since everyone in Asgard despises me so intensely, they would just let me die. Either one would be preferable to being locked up in here.”

Fandral was surprised that Loki even answered his question. Then he realized it was because he said his name, meaning he accidentally ordered him to do so.

“Don't do it. There must—” Fandral scrambled to think of something to say that would convince him not to harm himself. “We can...I'll...” His voice caught in his throat when Loki turned his head to look at him, and there were tears streaming down his cheeks.

“You'll _what?_ ” He asked in almost a whisper.

Fandral's jaw clenched. He was tongue-tied. He couldn't think of anything. Especially when Loki looked so—

“Loki, go to bed.” 

He wanted to slap himself, but it was the only thing he could think of. He didn't want to do it, but he had run out of options. Even though he had promised himself that he would never give Loki another order, he couldn't avoid it even if he wanted to. Loki's gaze moved to the floor. His eyes were blank.

“Very well. I have no choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Convenient Loki cries yay. And ffs Loki stop being a heartbreaking little shit gosh. I had to do it okay, because in all of my other fics I make the relationship between Loki and Frigga a happy one. Or Loki's just on his man-period or something I dunno. He never tells me anything.


End file.
